Chapter One

Chapter 1

Anise was in love with the ocean. Every morning when Ratana made chai, she’d take the same ratty edged picture book out with it's tearing jacket, and page though it until her mother finally scolded her to drink her tea.

“It’s getting cold!” her mother would say repeatedly, until finally Anise would chug down her lukewarm tea,  then think to herself how beautiful it’d be to live at the seaside. Away from the snowy mountains that never changed and she couldn’t ever visit. Then she’d wonder if maybe her true parents had been sailors, and that was why she wished every day to feel the sea breeze, to splash in the waves, to go sailing in a boat, far away from everything she’d ever known.

And then some days, to drown herself in its deepest depths.

The first time, Anise had heard her brother whisper “You don’t even belong here”, she’d ran to her room, cried her heart out, until she felt her sorrow turn to rage. She’d tried to rip her hair, hit her brother, refused to eat her supper and after all that, was sent to her room, and was not given breakfast the next day as punishment.

 Subsequent times, she had begun to accept it.

“Your parents tried to kill my parents” Agave would whisper to her every time they passed on the stairs. He would glare at her with his poisonous little stare, and she’d feel like she was a thief or an unwanted visitor in her own house. Her own house, as if the house was hers, would ever be hers, even just a little piece of it that she could call her own.

Anise often wondered about her past. Often wandered the cold dusty streets of Achabal, just to see the house where she was supposedly born, to wonder what terrible thing might have taken place there that would reduce it to rubble, and charred remnants of furniture and brick. She would greet the old beggar, Assan, who made his home under the house , give him some food, or a little of her pocket money if she had any, and in return he would tell her about his travels in the sea, about the ferocious storms and the indescribable beauty that would come after them. He would tell her of fishes and whales, and things called battleships that would destroy each other in massive firefights.

“Why don’t you return to the sea” she said to him, rather sadly, as if she was afraid he actually might.

“The sea is your home isn’t it Assan?” she said. When Assan heard this, his eyes turned down, and he looked as if he had suddenly become bitter about something

“Why don’t you return home?!” he said to her, harshly.  

“Instead of wasting your time talking to me. Go to school, become educated, maybe then you’ll get to visit the sea someday, instead of just listening to stories about it”

“No, Assan” Anise replied rather strongly. “I’m not wanted at home”

“Foolish girl” Assan said, like he did when he wanted to end a conversation

“Go to school tomorrow, come back and tell me what you’ve learned”

Anise did not move. She had not given Assan the coins she had in her pocket, and she knew she could get more stories out of him if she held out paying.  She knew Assan, despite his occasional gruffness,  would still do quite anything for her. She never saw him with any friends, and knew he didn’t make very much money begging, and he had for as long as she had know him, never failed to be at the house when she tended to appear.  It had been going on for as long as she could remember, and by now, she had begun to think of him as much as a father as friend. More so than her adopted family, in the least.

“What happened to this house” She said suddenly. She had asked Assan this question many times , and each time, he had not given an answer. He had briskly changed the subject, or stayed quiet.  And so she had been left to ponder. Once she thought she found a bone in the house, another time the remains of a dress like those that Muslum women wore.  That covered themselves from the eyes of world. For what reason, Anise could never discern.

“Why is there bones here” She asked again, seeing his silence at her prior inquiry.

“Why is there bones anywhere?” Assan replied

“Because people die” Anise said.

“Who died here” She said seriously.  “Was it your parents?”

 Assan passed his hand over the dingy remnants of a cushion for what looked like what was a sofa once. it still held some coloring of green despite its wear, It’s arms still held some of the ornamentation it once possessed, and he looked about the place as if seeing it in a new light. His graying eyes opened a little more, and Anise thought me may have smiled.

“Is that why you stay here Assan” she said calmly. “ Is it because it’s where you came from. Why don’t you go? You can go anywhere”

Assan seemed to ignore this on purpose, and she continued on

“You could make so much more begging a bigger city like Dehli or Mumbhai, but you choose to stay here” she added, thoughtfully. 

“I sat right here once” Assan replied, stroking the cushion, and smiling  “Right here. We drank. And ate. We played cards and talked. We made plans to do great things. Change the world right here. In the living room of this house”

“How about that ah?” Assan finished dramatically.  Anise felt he was trying to change the subject.

“Right here” he repeated,  pointing his finger forcefully toward the space in front of him. Anise looked around to the back to see nobody was watching, and took out her coins that she had brought. Shoving half of them toward Assan. He accepted them politely.  She knew it was now time to go, her mother would be expecting her for dinner shortly, but this time, it suddenly seemed more important to stay.

“Tell me more” she said urgently

Assan seemed to think for a moment before continuing

“First tell me what you’ll tell others” he said

“Nothing” she replied.

Assan seemed to accept that, and he spoke again

“You want to go sea right”

Anise nodded her head enthusiastically

“How far would you go to do that? Would you wait outside the bay every day, in the pouring rain, in the cold when its winter, in the sun when it’d hottest?  Would you stow yourself away on a fish full of smelly fish, just to go to sea?”

 Anise considered this, and didn’t reply immediately.

“Because that’s what it takes to do something that wasn’t meant to happen. Something the world tells you cannot happen. Will not happen. Something that people will do everything in their power to try and prevent.” Assan spoke earnestly, but Anise could also sense a hint of seething anger in his voice.

“My life is over.  When this house was attacked by your family, everybody in it, was officially killed”

Assan paused before seeing Anise’s wide-eyed surprise.

“Including me” he said quietly

 

“I was born here” Anise said.

“I don’t know” Assan said quizzically “Were you? This house has burned down long before you were born”

Anise looked puzzled. She remembered going to visit Assan as long as she could remember.  And as long as she had been going to him, the house had been there too. She often wondered how a bitter old beggar in a bunt down mansion had been more entreating to her than any number of her schoolmates had ever been, to say nothing of her tormenting brothers. That Assan had now entrusted to her a secret, seemed to confirm her fascination with this dank, unaccommodating place. Maybe it was the first secret she had even been given.

“How old are you Anise?” Assan asked “Twelve?”

“Yes” She said simply

“This house burnt down twenty two years ago… twenty two years, seventeen days exactly”  He said confidently. “You were not born here, why you were told that I don’t know”

“I don’t know either” she said quietly 

“You will tell nobody” he said

“Not a soul, you will not write this anywhere, and not tell anybody, not even your closest family”

“They’re not my family” she said confidently. 

Anise heard a low crack of rock, and spun around. A man darted out from behind a burnt pillar behind them. his fair face was full of terror, and surprise. Anise recognized him immediately, Assan did not.

“Please” the man said  “Let me speak first”

Assan reached for the rusty knife in his pocket, and Akbar began to speak.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

I'd like to know how this writing makes you feel? Is the dialog natural? Does it makes sense? At what point did you find you yourself bored with the writing, if any? What questions does this writing bring to mind? Does the writing feel overdone at any points?

Thank you for Reading!

Reviews

[Briana]

In the second line when describing the picture book, “with the tearing jacket” would sound more correct as “with its tearing jacket”. Not sure who Ratana is, yet. In the second paragraph, the sentence starting with “her mother” and ending with “never visit” is a run-on. You’d need to separate “she couldn’t ever visit” into its own sentence. After “You don’t even belong here” add a comma after “here” and before the quotation mark, and then lower case “She’d” and remove the “and” before “cried her heart out”. “She would greet the old beggar…” remove the “and” when you say “and give him some food”. When making a list of objects or actions, the “and” doesn’t need to appear until the final one.

Oh wow, I just adore the little bits and pieces of detail that fall into place as the narrator speaks. And the sentence, “Her own house…” is just absolutely fantastic. The hatred her brother has for her is immediately palpable, and the mention about parents attempting to kill her current parents is intriguing to say the least. Your descriptions are so vivid, so well placed. You don’t need to understand the setting to see them, to watch the sea churn in the beggar’s tales. The rough but strong bond between Anise and Assan is almost tangible. I’m so impressed with your writing! Really, the only thing this needs is a simple edit for grammar. I wanted to keep looking for errors and forgot to half way down, so interested in the story was I.

So if she wasn't born in this place, where is she from? Why would she be told a lie? Who is the man that's suddenly appeared? Is it her adopted father? One of her brothers? I'm so curious to know! Your writing style is so fluid, so bright with imagery and movement! The dialogue itself is lovely, but working a bit on the grammar and punctuation would help with the flow of the reading. I say you've got the story down, and now it's just time to proofread. I'm anxiously waiting for more!

[Dhanadeepa Dixit]

Thank you so much for your insightful and helpful review! Your knowledge of English and composition is really helpful, and Ill be making those changes you suggested. In the meantime, I hope you continue to review more writers work, the community could certainly use such a thoughtful reviewer.

[Lavorther]

It was very interesting to read the story, although sometimes i didn't know immediately who said what. You might want to continue on the same line when the same person keeps talking, or add a little pointer to who said it.

I also spotted a few small mistakes:

"Often wandered the the cold dusty streets of Achabal, ..."
This line has 2 times the word "the".

"Ainse looked puzzled. She remembered going to visit Anise as long as she could remember."
First, you spelled Anise wrong, and i think the second "Anise" is supposed to be "Assan".

"Assef reached for the rusty knife in his pocket, and Jasmine began to speak."
Here you suddenly talk about Assef, who is never mentioned before. I think it was supposed to be Assan here.

Lastly the font of the last few lines is different from the rest.

This might sound negative, but that is not my intention. I just want to help :)
It is a good story and i enjoyed reading it.

[Dhanadeepa Dixit]

Thank you Lavorther!!! It's really great to get constructive criticism about about a piece of writing instead of someone just saying its good or bad. I'll be fixing those mistakes in time, and try to clarify the dialog somewhat as well. Again, Thanks!!!